


Nudge

by StoryCloud



Category: Ghost - Mystery Skulls (Music Video)
Genre: Angst, Fear, Forgetting, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, Poor Arthur, Violence, watch out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StoryCloud/pseuds/StoryCloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set immediately after 'Freaking Out'. Arthur’s in for a nasty surprise. Or: In which Lewis is Angry, Arthur doesn’t drive away fast enough, and road ethics are completely ignored.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nudge

**Author's Note:**

> ...I have no idea what this is. Just...writing what was in my brain. I don't even know if It'll go anywhere or if I'll get the time to continue. Keep it on the fence, I suppose.

_Nudge._

...The milkshake...or the chocolate milk...? They were about the same, weren’t they, but one of them was banana...

_Nudge._

Cold nose against his cheek. Go away, Mystery, we’re trying to order. Hmm, the banana is yellow. Fruit milkshake. Orange straw. He wanted it.

Go away, Mystery. Down, boy...

_Nudge._

Maybe Lewis will want that pink one. See if there’s a purple straw. Which one to do want, buddy?

_Nudge-nudge-nudge._

“M-Mystery...down, boy...”

Mystery was practically head-butting his side now. Arthur’s hazy dream slowly faded out of existence; blurring and dissolving until eventually he had no idea what he’d been dreaming about. But it was something good. Something relaxing. He blinked, slowly, and let the world come back into focus. Then he realised that, actually, his jaw really hurt. He’d been grinding his teeth, and - _ow_ – his neck was stiff. He’d fallen asleep half-slouched over his laptop. Mystery was peering up at him reproachfully. Vivi’s soft snores were chiming somewhere to his left, undisturbed.

He yawned, slowly, and flopped down on the floor of the van, laptop against his chest, eyelids drooping again.

And then he remembered what had been keeping him awake before, and any ounce of sleepiness his brain had been harbouring evaporated like ice tea over a dap fat fryer. His eyes slid back open in resignation. “Mm...”

The dull ache in his chest returned, and he sat back up, stifling a yawn, semi-aware of the heaviness under his eyes. He opened his laptop again. All right. Maps. Maps. Concentrate. You can do this...

Ohmygodnosomethingcoldwastouchinghisarm -

He spun around and –

Mystery was nudging his side, harder. He jumped. “Mystery! Don’t _do_ that!”

The dog whined, loudly, and ran about in a circle for a second before leaping out of the truck. Arthur dove after him, realising too late that he was still holding the laptop and almost let it fall to the floor mid-dive. He caught it in a frenzy of flying limbs, “No, Mystery!” There were cars and trucks going by, he couldn’t –

...There were no trucks or cars. The road was...pretty sparse. Arthur swallowed and set his laptop down next to Vivi. Mystery was standing outside the van, watching him expectantly, tail wagging and eyes broad to the point they could’ve popped out.

“What is it...?” A chill was prancing its horrible way up his spine. “Mystery?”

The dog barked, loudly, but apparently not enough to wake Vivi. He scooted to the front of the van, practically bouncing up and down on his feet. The message was clear. Get moving. Now. Arthur’s head reeled. What? Was something coming? If Mystery was getting so worked up then –

He swallowed. What did he tell Vivi? Why hadn’t he awakened _her_?

Following his gut, or rather Mystery’s since his was churning rapidly, he closed the van doors, got into the driver’s seat, and started up the engine. It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten. He wouldn’t have kept it down.

The van began mulling along, slowly, so the motion wouldn’t wake Vivi in the back. His heart was pounding in a horribly familiar way that made his already stand-up hair straighten. They were driving down the road now. Going away, from whatever, thing, whatever...

He smiled, nervously, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Everything was fine. Just –

From the distance, a pair of headlights glared at him from over the hill. Arthur’s eye twitched; unease giving away to indignation. Wait a minute, they were on the wrong side of the road! No way was he giving pass –

Then, the noise. At first it was just a normal car horn, angry and demanding, then it echoed, then it echoed again, reverberating like ten were blaring at once, each new blast piling up until it was deafening and distorted. And yet he could hear Vivi mumbling in the back –

It was coming right at them –

Closer –

Wait that isn’t a normal truck -

Arthur’s insides felt like they were collapsing in terror, his fingers had frozen stiff on the wheel and he gawked, eyes bulging, as the truck came zooming right towards them –

He saw magenta, he saw purple, and black, and he saw –

Shitshitshitohgodhelpme –

Black.

He saw nothing, but he heard it all. Crash, bang, sizzle, clatter, every onomatopoeic description of noise there was, it was there. He was spinning, tumbling, his back hitting something, Mystery was howling. Then he landed, face-down, curled up into a little ball as he felt red-raw metal and wire shower upon him, singing his skin and hair. He trembled violently as the wreckage skidded to a halt.

The silence was worse.

Just his heartbeat. Thud. Thud...

Arthur opened his eyes. Nope. He couldn’t see a thing. Not even his own mismatched hands. His breath escaped him, shaky but there – he was alive. He pulled his fingers away from his hair, and tried to call out. But every part of him ached. “Vi...”

Mystery. Vivi. Oh God, were they –

Please no, _please no_ -

He could hear rummaging. Metal flipping over, getting tossed. Someone was making their way towards him. Giddy relief flooded over him. They were alive, they must be –

No. It wasn’t. He could – he could hear –

Cold terror seeped through him, and his face blanched.

The metal rubble of the van covering his little hidey-hole was torn away. He knew, even before that, that it couldn’t be either of his friends. And looming above, glaring down at him gripping the remains of the truck door like it weighed no more than paper, was –

The Ghost.

Light-eyed sockets narrowed, dangerously, and the spectre tossed the door away without as much as a glance. Arthur’s shriek got trapped in his throat and he cowered away, but the phantom reached in and seized the front of his shirt –

He hoisted him out of the wreckage, up into the air. Arthur’s breath came out as a panicked squawk. His hands flew to the bony fingers gripping his shirt, but he couldn’t pry them free. “Wh – wh!”

The phantom’s eye sockets narrowed even more, if that was possible. Rage radiated off him like a furnace. He turned, letting Arthur sag down to the floor – but he didn’t let go. He started dragging him away, his grip vice-like on his T. Arthur started fighting immediately, kicking and scrabbling at the ground, at the broken metal, anything, but he couldn’t find a hold. He started whimpering, then calling out, a wordless noise of pure, unbridled horror. Then, finally, he managed a ‘sentence.’

“HELP! OH GOD PLEASE, DON’T, VIVI, PLEASE, _HELP! **HELP ME!”**_

A sharp tug cut off his wails, the Ghost hoisted him up and his arm wrapped around his neck and shoulder, clutching him against his side, leaving his legs to continue dragging uselessly across the ground. It made it even harder to try and grab something, anything, to slow it down. “HELP! P-Please, please...!”

Up until then the phantom, the wraith, whatever he was, had been glaring ahead, ignoring his pleads. Then he glanced down at him, eyes sliding low to glower at his captive with an obvious but silent message – _shut up._

The grip around his neck tightened, he could barely breathe. He couldn’t do anything. Just squirm and wonder what he had in store for him.

“V-Vivi...!”

A sudden tremor sang through the Ghost’s posture at the name, and he hoisted Arthur into the air again; the giant hand now coiling around his throat. Arthur shuddered, horror completely blanking out any intelligent thought. The phantom jerked him closer, so that his violent magenta eyes were just a centimetre away, cold, clammy skull against his _forehead_ –

“..a...”

His eyes rolled back, the blood rushing from his head to his fingertips, and he passed clean out, going limp in the Ghost’s grip.

The phantom didn’t budge for a moment, glaring daggers into his pale, fear-stricken face.

Then, behind him, he heard calling. A dog barking. His eye sockets widened, the ghostly equivalent of a blink, and he glanced over his shoulder.

Vivi, utterly unharmed to an extreme level, came stumbling onto the roadside, panting, hair a mess. The woman stopped short when she saw him, mouth hanging open, eyes wide behind tinted glasses. Mystery was by her leg, teeth grinding in alarm when he registered just what he was seeing.

The phantom scowled and wordlessly slung Arthur over his shoulder - and vanished in a blur of pink smoke. Vivi’s hand reached, shock stealing her voice right out of her throat.

“...!”


	2. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur is good at pretending to to be asleep, Lewis Drinks Coffee, and it all goes downhill from there.

Of course he’d pass out.

Lewis emerged, like a soft breeze fading into the air, in the middle of a broad, bramble-framed area off the side of the road. Very house-less, though judging by the shape of the flat gravel space, a foundation must’ve been built once in the past. The moon, crescent-shaped and shining cleanly, watched silently as he tossed the limp form of Arthur Kingsman to the ground. Arthur looked worse for wear than he ever had; sunken in face, bags under his eyes, he was lighter than he used to be. Lewis wondered if it was because of his ghostly strength enhancement (being dead had its perks apparently) or Arthur had lost a good deal of weight.

He only noticed the change because he was once used to the small man leaping into his arms after a jump scare.

If he’d had a mouth it would’ve been stung with a bad taste as much memories. With a pointed shoe he nudged at the smaller man’s side, but he didn’t stir. Perfect. He had no idea how long he’d stay out like this. Vivi would be looking for him.

...But he wanted the worm _awake_.

Fate had a way of dealing him a terrible hand, now it had to go and screw up any chance he had of retribution. He deserved something going his way by this point, didn’t he...?

Behind him, a table and chair set appeared with a soft amiable ‘poof’. His pudgy ghost companions were hovering around it already, peering at Arthur like a trio of hateful pet birds. He sat down, slowly, his gaze never wavering from the unconscious man, and waited.

What Lewis didn’t know is that Arthur had gotten good at pretending to be asleep.

He started getting really good when he had to pretend not to be having nightmares, or that he was getting forty winks as promised instead of staying up all night on his laptop or trembling under the blankets. Vivi was none the wiser. He was experienced with waking up from a confusing, mismatched nightmare and being perfectly still in case she came in.

So when he came to, he didn’t react. He laid there, horror really testing his limit, and the only thing keeping him from shaking was the fact he was actually too scared to move, and that a little shift could very well be the last thing he ever did.

He stared at the back of his eyelids. He could practically feel the ghost’s eyes burning into the side of his face. His heart rate increased, hammering against his ribs. What did he do? What the **fuck** was he going to do?

Okay, okay. Do what you do to pretend you’re asleep. Heartbeat. Pay attention to your heartbeat. Breathe. He was a bag of potatoes, never going to move, and never going to be as useful...

He heard a little ‘ching’ noise. He’d heard that sound before. He racked his terror-blanched brain for the answer and...china. China cup. Tea cup. The – the spirit was drinking tea while it was waiting for him to wake up. Beads of sweat began forming on his forehead and heard a soft ‘whoosh’ – the fire-hair shifting as the ghost turned its head. Oh no. Please no.

This was it. He was going to die and he had no idea _why._ Why was it after him? Was it because he crashed in from the ceiling and woke it up or...

_Eeek._

Something landed directly beside him; he could feel the tips of pointy shoes hovering against his back. He was shaking now. Damn. Damn it. He had to know he was awake now. He could hearing hissing, sizzling, fire getting bigger, more and more _pissed off._

He couldn’t help it. He opened his eyes.

Standing over him was the Ghost, glaring venomously down at him, staff as a board. Arthur sat up and tossed himself away, legs and hands lashing out to find some kind of footing and he propelled forward in a mad attempt to escape. But something seized the back of his shirt and he was tugged back again, into the air, he kicked out his legs but nothing came into contact. He cringed, arms pressed against his chest, and he screwed his eyes shut and waited for whatever horrible pain they being had in mind for him.

“ ** _Arthur.”_**

The voice fading in and out like an inverted microphone. In his head and his ears, laced by an echo and cold hard fury with murder bubbling behind it. It knew his name, it was talking to him. His eyelids cracked open.

“Wh...wh...wh-what?!”

A niggling feeling was festering in the back of his head, the way the voice appeared in his own skull like he was wearing invisible earphones – it was familiar, it was _familiar._

Arthur did something that had been building up for at least twenty minutes, and was a long time coming. He freaked out. He thrashed violently in the Ghost’s hold, so much so that the spectre held him away like a soaked cat, apparently so taken aback that he’d forgotten his limbs would probably phase right through him.

The Ghost gave a growl, like sigh and slammed him into the floor. Arthur felt his body go rigid, his insides jar, and the air fly frown his lungs. Winded, his limbs sagged to the dirt. “...ack...”

The Ghost was looming over him; fist digging painfully into his chest. He cowered, turning his head away. “I didn’t do anything, I didn’t do anything!”

That statement seemed to throw the fire into the proverbial pan. The Ghost’ eyes flashed dangerously in his sockets and he hoisted him up and again and suddenly Arthur was flying through the air like a volley ball.

He landed with a crash, bouncing a little. The voice came again, so loud and fire-powered he could’ve sworn it was shaking the floor, “ **Nothing? Really, Arthur, NOTHING?”**

The lankier man took this chance to get back up, legs trembling, “I don’t know! I don’t know who you are - you have _th-e wro-ng per-son_!” The last three words were punctuated and strained because he’d run out of breath.  He held up his hands, backing away as the Ghost floated ominously towards him. He spun on his heel and made a break for it, only for three blurs of pink to swoop up in his way and hiss like a trio of wildcats. He reeled back against and his back struck against something hard, and cold.

Arthur froze solid. Slowly, as a bead of sweat trickled down his brow, he lifted his head and peered up at the skeleton. A pair of magenta eyes shrank to furious little pinpoints. “Ah...heh...heh...s-sorry, buddy.”

A hand landed on his head, flattening his spiky hair. Arthur made a small, inward noise of fright unworthy of any definition as he felt the fingers dig into his skull.

He stood there, stiff and quivering like a thin sheet of metal in a hurricane, as the Ghost leant down to stare right into his face, practically leaning on his head. “ **Don’t. Lie. You know who I am. You know what you _did.”_**

What he? What he did?

Something familiar, but the voice, about this, a large hand on his head ruffling his hair, cheerily calling him a good stool to lean on as he fumed and forced down a smile...

The nagging in the back of his brain spread like a cancer, he could feel it seep through his head to his eyes, cold and numbing. There was no more magenta, no warmth, just cold, clammy, the coldness in his arm and the stomach-turning sensation of feeling it move but not making it do so, the fog in his nightmares, the green he saw whenever he closed his eyes for more than a second –

With a soft ‘pop’ in his head, the pieces came back. No shatter, no explosion of memory, the pieces just phased back into being, nestling like maggots as if they’d never left. Like waking up from a daydream.

No.

Oh God, no.

His arm. His hand.

Lewis.

Oh God, Lew. Not Lew. He was reaching over the edge, he was trying to scream but the cry wouldn’t leave his throat, the tears were spilling down from one eye but his cheeks were aching from the strain of a smile –

_Lewis._

He couldn’t breathe. His legs gave out.

Arthur fell to the floor, landed with a thud on his knees, arms lying uselessly by his side. A single, dry sob wracked his body, and he stared aimlessly past the Ghost, past the stars, at nothing as it all flooded in. Oh God. He’d killed him. He’d killed Lewis, Lewis was gone, he was never going to _see him ever again..._

He remembered thinking that back in the cave, as he’d knelt over the edge, back arching as he cried, he was never going to see him again, his body was down there but he was gone. Gone forever. And now it was happening over again, the piece of him being torn away, the waking up in the morning and planning on meeting Vivi and Lewis – but then remembering there would be no Lewis.

How had he forgotten?

_Not gone._

His mind dragged the pieces of itself back into function. His blinked and there was Lewis’s ghost, looming over him with a cold, murderous glare. He wanted to kill him. Lewis wanted to kill him.

_You deserve it._

Lewis would never kill anyone.

_You killed him._

N-no...it wasn’t him!

“Lewis...?” He whispered. His muddled brain pulled the information together, bit by bit. The Ghost’s eye sockets seemed to narrow a tad and he took that as some form of ‘yes’. Lewis. It _was_ Lewis.

_“Lewis!”_

He propelled himself forward, arms flinging themselves around his waist, head buried against a cold, suited chest. The Ghost’s arms lifted; sockets broadening in genuine surprise; his hair gave a flick of bemusement. “...!”

There was silence.

Lewis’s fists clenched.

This made no sense. Why was he playing dumb, why was he – _urgh._ He couldn’t have just forgotten, how did you forget something like that? But Arthur was acting like none of it had happened. That made it all the more worse. Lewis’s arms lowered, slowly, stiffly, and he glowered into his former friend’s unkempt locks, newly healed heart thudding ominously just beside his head. After he’d died, all he heard was the echo of the last few beats his real heart had given, before he hit the spikes. It wasn’t as sudden as you’d think it would be. It wasn’t the height that killed him, he was alive for a good thirty seconds before the pain finally sapped away.

All he could think about, once the physical pain was gone, was the burning in his soul. Arthur.

Arthur, huddling behind him when he was scared, jabbering away and pointing at milkshakes on menus, whose eyes lit up whenever he and Vivi appeared in his Uncle’s garage. Arthur couldn’t hurt a fly, all his memories chanted this for years, so if anyone hurts him they’ll see the bad side of me. Arthur, who had freaked out when Vivi scraped her hand a little bit, and sat through horror movies with her so they could all be together.

The fact that all of that had been a lie, or had been tainted up until that point, made it worse than the fact the smaller man had simply killed him. Lewis had felt _stupid_. Had he been a fool? Had the Arthur he’d known changed, or had he always been this cowardly creature who’s so called ‘friendship’ had been some kind of ruse?

No, it hadn’t been a ruse. He’d been his friend, at least a little. That made it worse.

The most logical idea was that he’d grown jealous of his ‘protector’ and wanted to get rid of him. Every happy memory, even the ones with Vivi were tainted by that, and Lewis was angry that not only had he rid him of his life, he’d also ruined some of the memories.

He was going to make the little bastard pay. Right now, he’d kill him, and let his terror destroy whatever _soul_ his cowardly frame housed. He deserved it.

His hand latched around Arthur’s neck.

His former friend’s eyes snapped open. He didn’t look up, staring off to the side, his entire body going stiff.

“L...Lewis?”

_Snap._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I had no idea where this is going. I could go into...AU Territory, or follow the route more close to what people predict will happen in the next video...  
>  I'll think...


	3. Shove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mystery runs and Vivi is hindered by bramble bushes and oddly coloured petals.

In all respects, and retrospect, they would have gone a lot faster if Vivi hadn’t been carrying him. But thanks to various movies, media and whatnot, the blue woman hadn’t considered the fact the four-legged creature squished in her arms like an unfortunate teddy bear would’ve been able to run ahead much faster without her picking him up and sprinting. Mystery’s face was pulled back in a wide-eyed grimace as Vivi sped down the roadway, feet cracking against the road and giving off ear-splitting echoes that only served to heighten the tension – that is if he could hear it through the wind in his ears. Vivi was panting, hair flying back as she zipped along at an incredibly seeped.

Adrenalin could do that to you. If you really, really needed to, you could outrun a jackalope. And the van was wrecked; poor Galahad’s cage squashed (the less lucky hamster was trembling in her pocket and bouncing along with them) and at this hour not a car lay in sight. And running down into town shrieking that a ghost had abducted your nervous wreck of a chum wasn’t exactly a better plan.

He whined, loudly, his meaning almost lost in the panic. Vivi seemed to catch on pretty easily, though.

“I have a hunch on where they’re going!” She huffed, leaping over what looked like a crate doused in feathers lying broken in the road, “That – huff- truck came from ahead, but we saw the ghost at that –“

She didn’t elaborate further, concentrating on getting enough air into her lungs to breath, and to continue her maddened sprint.

The mansion was gone, she’d seen it vanish (and she’d been freaking out ecstatically ever since) but she’d know the place. Brambles, forest, middle of nowhere. If she were a murderous ghost kidnapping someone you wanted to burn alive, she’d want somewhere pretty off the map, too. Not that the police could ever trace a dapper _phantom_.

Her legs were burning. Her eyelids and mouth drooping like she was half asleep. _Darn it,_ her brain shrieked, curse this non-athletic body!

She inhaled, a ragged, heavy breath, and sped up her pace again. Mystery was wriggling in her grip. “N-not now, mystery...”

A flustered yip was all she got as a reply. Galahad was peering out of her pocket, nose twitching, content being a passenger – but excuse him, Mystery wasn’t. He took Vivi’s growing exhaustion and sloppy gait as his chance to slip out of her arms and zoom ahead.

She had the right idea; he knew where they’d be going. The ghost would be strongest in the place he was anchored, or that he’d occupied for the longest time.

Vivi didn’t have enough air in her lungs to call him back. Giving a shaky gasp, she balled her pale hands to fists and began jogging along, eyes sliding shut for a split seconds. Yeah, as if that would help.

Darn it.

Darn it!

She’d thought that was a poltergeist! In other words, stuck in one place! She hadn’t stopped to think that maybe this unique, fiery suit-wearing dude, who was clearly and obvious different than every spook they’d ever encountered, might overstep a few of the rules.

She’d been too excited _. I mean, neon ghosts_. That can make their own mansions. It was...amazing, the most vigorous ghostly experience they’d ever had.

Darn it, darn it. She’d lost Arthur and he was probably having a mental breakdown and thanks to whatever the heck hit them she didn’t have any spook-finding equipment.

It probably wouldn’t help, but it would make her feel better.

Keep jogging.

Vivi hopped nimbly over a pothole. Mystery was a white blur in the distance, speeding frantically along the empty road.

Then he wasn’t. Then something orange was flying into her specs. “Gah!”

She reached up and flick it away, only for it to fly off her face and into her hair. Then another one. Orange-red petals, actually. What, was someone driving at full speed with a bunch of flowers stuck to their –

Mystery gave a loud yowl up ahead. Vivi booked it, legs going into overdrive as she turned around the rocky highway corner and –

He’d hopped over the rail and was skittering down the slope below, into a forest way rank with brambles. Vivi’s eyes widened, “Myserty! Wait up!”

No time to be prissy. She heaved one leg over, then the other, and hopped down – and proceeded to slide violently downhill. “Yike!”

Crooked trees on either side, she was close.

Vivi barred her teeth, arms flailing, and leap-landed onto the thorn-framed path below. Shortcut, terrific, now she only had to find Myst –

She tripped on something. Miraculously, Vivi kept her balance, hands flying out just in case, so she resembled a rather out-of place ballet dancer. Grimacing, she tore her ankle away from the tangle of roots and whatnot on the roadside and continued onward – when it happened again. Covered in thorns, but somehow not-biting bramble bushes snaking around her foot. “Oh for Pete’s sake!”

She lifted her free leg to give it a kick –

But she couldn’t move it, either. Her other shoe was now encased in them. Vivi stared. Then, slowly, they started climbing up towards her knee, and something yanked violently at her hand. Her head whipped around, specs slipping down her nose, and her eyes widened to the point it hurt. Some kind of vine-like root had curled around his wrist like a cuff, and it jerked her to the left, towards the thicket, closer to the crooked trees and bushes. Vivi lurched, throwing herself the opposite way, to the barer side of the road, panic swelling in her chest.

It didn’t work. If anything they tightened, one looping around her waist and tugging her back, practically hoisting her up. Vivi’s breath came out shaky, faster with each passing second, as it really dawned her that she wasn’t getting out –

She didn’t panic, not easily, never easily. Sweat running down her temples, she grit her teeth and leant back, then forward, building momentum and swinging with all her might.

Well, the bramble-thingies weren’t expecting that, and most of them tore away. Ha. Vivi hit the floor in a less-than graceful landing, huffing loudly. She leaped up, and tugged her jumper back down with her nose held high. “Hmph!”

And she sprinted onward, scarf fluttering back behind her like a jet trail.

The thrill of victory faded, however, as Arthur came back into her mind. And she’d lost all trace of Mystery. Keeping up her jog, she followed the – er ...

Trail of petals.

Vivi didn’t have time to stoop down and inquisitively examine these petals, but they seemed to be heading, like breadcrumbs, in the direction Mystery had been going. And the colour wasn’t lost on her, however theory-wise that sounded. She liked theories, just didn’t have time right now.

Find Arthur.

Arthur. Her mouth twisted. He was probably in a state right now. An evil ghost chasing her friend and she’d been taking a nap...

She breathed, and ran.

...

Dying isn’t what people think it is. Arthur figured he had a few theories on how it worked. One, everything ended, like a light going off. _Fwoop_ \- you’re dead. String cut, match blown out, the trapdoor opening below a hangman’s feet. Second theory – you faded away, like going to sleep, with whatever thoughts you held in your air-deprived head being the last, muddle little morsels you knew. Third...there was no ‘fade’. No flick of the switch. Just...something else. And you know what? He had no idea which one was the worst. If he had to die, he had no idea what he’d pick.

He didn’t want to be scared when he died.

He was scared, now. But then his head went empty. So empty he didn’t even feel the uncomfortable uneasiness of that emptiness, and the only way he could register anything was because he felt it, but because logic prevailed. He wouldn’t quite say it was ‘numb’. That didn’t make sense.

He had no idea where he was. Everything was black. Lewis had been there. He’d felt it, remembered it, in vivid detail, it was seconds ago - heat of the fire tickling the back of his neck, the coldness in his hands – _hand_ \- and feet...

His eyes weren’t closed, he didn’t think, but he couldn’t see himself, or turn his head. He could blink, if he was...feeling his face correctly. He felt frozen. No, not chilly, in fact he...couldn’t detect any temperature at all. Not warm or cold. Stuck. There we go, first price award, he thought, a little erratically. The emptiness faltered, a little, and he felt again. Now he wished it had stayed that way. He couldn’t move, couldn't feel or wiggle his fingers. Being numb was different, he knew that feeling, being stuck in the hospital with your body refusing to listen to you. You could feel your body weighing down and staying bolted to the bed, it was just – just.

Oh god, he couldn’t feel anything. He could barely feel his eyes trying to move. Oh god, this was awful, Oh god, oh god, he couldn’t move.

Was he breathing? No, he wasn’t, he couldn’t feel his lungs filling, couldn’t feel his chest. Terror bubbled like boiling water in his mind, a kettle stuck on the stove, in a pot, with the pot tightly sealed because he was _physically incapable_ of freaking out.

Vivi. Lewis, Mystery. Uncle Lance.

_Somebody._

Anyone.

Oh god.

_Lewis. Please. Please tell me you didn’t._

_Fuck I’m scared._

_Don’t leave me alone._

_Don’t..._

He could see Lewis.

_Lewis?_

_Oh god I can’t speak. Lewis, please. Lewis._

He saw grey-purple soil, probably something to do with the way the light was shining. Sunrise? Sunset? How long – how long had he been here?

The image came to him, not in a flicker or a flash. There, then gone. Like a lagging video, just ‘stopping’ now and again, so he couldn’t really see. He wasn’t standing right by Lewis anymore, he could see his dress shoes from here. He was pretty sure he wasn’t this tall before, he – he was almost looking down at him, weird angle.

It was gone again, didn’t come back. Arthur tried to call out, to move, to close his eyes, but nothing happened. If he blinked, he wouldn’t know. It was awful.

Where was he?

_Lewis! Help me, please, don’t, I’m sorry, please –_

_Don’t leave me alone!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to make this longer, but when I tried to continue the chapter after I got the scenes in my head out I realised it wasn't working, and just ruining it. I don't want to go for quantity over quality. And hey, this fandom's based on less than ten minutes of (fantastic) footage, so I think its okay that the chapters are also short. X)


	4. Blink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things go very, very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Let me know if this gets too mushy. Warning - for some reason, it gets darker. Think Black Comedy...?

_Please...?_

How long had he been saying that? He couldn’t sense his eyelids, but he felt fatigued, stretched. He’d yawn if it were possible.

Oh. Hey.

He could see something! Right there, no, down there. He peered, or at least he tried to. On the floor...or at least, it wasn’t bobbing around like some hovering object would. Something smallish, something familiar.

But he couldn’t move.

It...It was his star badge. Had he dropped it? He’d tumbled into ravines, rivers, haunted mansions, trap doors, and that thing hadn’t fallen off. Better pick it up...

Nothing happened. Arthur seethed. If he had cheeks, they’d be puffed up with a barely suppressed sigh. _Better pick it up._

Pick it up. Pick it – Oh whoa! He was moving. Yes indeed, he surged forward, though the only indication he had that he’d budged was that his star-badge was now right in front of his face, gleaming like...like. Huh. It was bigger, than he remembered, and...glowing, kind of. Or was it just reflecting some light he couldn’t see? Oh well. It was something anyway. Fear was still lingering like a beats in the bushes, waiting for him to stop thinking – so he focused all of his attention of his star-badge. That reminded him – his laptop was probably broken. He didn’t have a back-up hardrive, all his files, the photos...

A rippling, twisting sensation came over him. But he didn’t feel his stomach flip or his skin tingle. He tried to focus. Star badge. Get my badge. Slowly, it started to lift. He could, he could feel something. A grip.

And slowly, with a soft blur, his hand faded in around his trinket. The visibility spread, slowly, forearm, elbow, shoulder, torso, stretching down to his legs. Just an outline in the darkness, but he could...feel them a bit more. Now he felt numb. But strange. Light. Like he was underwater, only it didn’t take so long to kick...

His other arm didn’t materialised. The badge felt warm, soft, a little candle-light, glowing bright, illuminating this little spot for him. He...landed. He stood. Arthur laughed, or tried to.

Then, whatever it was...spread to his head. He felt his hair stand up on end, but it felt light, fluffy. His face felt odd, like he’d been crying. Stiff, yet that sensation was vague. Everything, heck, everything was vague, faint, barely there.

But hey. Better than nothing. He was happy he could move again.

He dropped the badge. Whoops. Feeling a little better, but still nervy, but better because this was progress, he bent down and tried to pick it up again –

Whoa!

He reeled forward, and judging by how the little blur of yellow was tumbling upwards, he’d just rolled clean over. He waved his arms – arm – rapidly, trying to regain his balance. Slowly, he floated upright again. Huh. He would have felt dizzy any other time, but no, this time he didn’t. He reached for the badge again...

It blinked. It didn’t pulse; it blinked, in and out like a broken nightlight. Curiously, Arthur’s silhouette fingers closed around it again. The closer his face got to the flickering light, the more he could...feel his...face...?

He only had one arm, so, how was he supposed to...?

Before he could finish that thought, the little badge grew in size, bigger than his hand. Then, suddenly, it flipped towards his empty arm socket, sticking there with a ‘fwoop’ like a magnet. He tried to pry it off but nope, it stayed there.

He’d expected discomfort, having something attached to the sensitive stump so quickly (a problem he had with the robotic prosthetic all too often) but he found there was no scar in the flesh. No flesh at all, just...dark outlines, again. He wondered if it was due to the weird...place he was in or something else.

Don’t freak out. Freaking out is a no-no. Relax. Look on the bright side, now you have a hand to check if your face is still in one piece. Arthur hesitantly lifted his arm, running his fingers along his chin –

...

What the –

Oh god.

On the bright side, he finally managed to make a noise. That is, he managed to scream.

...

Lewis had expected some loathsome, bitter satisfaction from seeing Arthur drop. But something – something in him, still threaded there by years and years of memories, memories still unravelled and not yet cut out, knitted into his instinct – something in there made him reach again, made automatic horror seep into what was left of his soul. Old thoughts from his old self, the Lewis that existed before the fatal fall. That Lewis would have mirrored him now, stooping down to catch the limp form before he hit the ground.

He stiffened. Arthur’s head flopped gently to one side, baggy, darkened eyelids lank and closed. They’d fallen the second he’d done it.

A drop of sweat still lingered on Arthur’s brow. He looked asleep, exhausted, the worry from before still present on the skin. Lewis couldn’t move just yet. He felt empty, knelt here, with Arthur lying listless in his arms. He looked so tiny.

Arthur.

Arthur, playing video games with him, indulging his parent’s viciously peppered meals, giving his sister a piggy back ride, even if they’d pulled at his funny hair. Finally beating him in a ‘who can throw this scrunched up blueprint paper into the waste-bin first time’ and singing karaoke...

_Why did you do it, Arthur?_

Being angry was a drug. An exhausting, horrible drug, and it had always been that way for Lewis. Anger was his weak heel, the thing nobody ought to press. But now, his anger was simmering and he was left with confusion, and _pain,_ like when Vivi had been standing in front of him only to be torn away –

The burn in his bones returned, muddling up with the pain and the confusion into a terrible mix. His phantom hair shook dangerously above him. _Why? Why did you start all this, make me **do** this? Then make me feel – how dare you make me feel guilty after what you did, you little coward!_

**_“Why,_ ** _Arthur? You were my best friend. Didn’t that **mean** anything?”_

Of course, he didn’t respond.

One year. All of it a blur. Vicious anger pulsing through him, clouding his head, making him feel sick. No wonder fire was his motive. All he could think about was killing him, but now –

Now, panic was swelling, and he could feel his fiery hair fading to a dim hum, his pulsing locket, newly healed, felt heavier on his chest, more of a weight than a comfort. His hands shook. “Why, Arthur?”

His fingers dug into the smaller man’s shoulder, but obviously, he didn’t stir. Lewis had been too hasty, he saw that now. He’d never know _why._ But before he hadn’t cared, he just wanted to drag him down with him. Turmoil was tangling inside his skull, like marbles bouncing around the edges. He wanted this. He’d do it again if he could.

But Arthur looked so helpless, now.

_He pushed me._

_I was helpless, too. I trusted him._

_Why?_

It doesn’t matter.

He didn’t know why, but he felt like he needed to. Lewis moved, at last, and wrapped his arms around the body, holding it close for a moment. Now the anger was gone. Flittering away to confusion again, and this time he couldn’t stoke the embers of it. His arms shook. Now there was just sadness, and it was heavy, drowning. _Fuck. **Fuck.**_

_Arthur wouldn’t have wept over your body._

_Then why hug me like nothing was wrong? Made no sense..._

His eyes narrowed a little again.

Then, skittering footsteps. Familiar footsteps. Paws scuttling over the dirt, frantic and unsynchronised. Lewis’s skull tilted upward and there was Mystery, coming to a halt a few yards away. His jaw hung open, specs lopsided, eyes wide and his face stricken.

“...” A soft, helpless whine escaped the dog, desperate, hurt. And then he blinked. Lewis stared. The dog’s teeth barred, an unusual growl rattled his body and his fur bristled. He was shaking violently, crouching.

**_“Mystery...”_ **

Oh no.

_Vivi._

Mystery lunged. Lewis, by reflex, stood up, letting Arthur’s body fall. The dog snapped at him, trying to snag at his arm – no wait, not his arm, he was trying to bite down on his locket! Lewis floated back a good meter but the dog followed him, hackles raised, eyes dead set on it. Lewis’s head turned back to the body. For moment, the dog followed his gaze, then scuttled to Arthur’s side, nudging his face, trying to turn him over.

Arthur’s head fell to one side, unmoving. Mystery’s body seemed to sag a little.

Lewis had no idea what happened next. One moment the dog was standing there, crestfallen, and he was feeling an unjustified guilt rattling his bones – and then he was flying backwards, the dog’s teeth clenching around the locket and trying to tear it away from his chest, but he didn’t break it when those teeth probably could have managed it.

He turned, almost elegant, really, and in a sweep he knocked the dog harmlessly away. Mystery turned in mid air and landed, something wasn’t right, he knew the dog would go above and beyond to protect him but there was something off. He could _feel_ it.

Vivi couldn’t see.

But she’d find out.

Oh god, what had he done? Arthur deserved it, he’d killed him, he’d betrayed all of them but Vivi didn’t _know –_

This would hurt her, even if she found out the truth, even if she ended up loathing the mechanic just as much – and Lewis bitterly hoped she would – for a moment her heart would break and _it would be his entire fault_.

He ran a hand through flaming hair, as Mystery rounded on him.

Mystery’s violent snarl wavered, and suddenly, he buckled. He’d looked at Arthur again and Lewis felt that tearing sensation in his chest again. How could he feel all of this without organs?

“He deserved it, Mystery.” He said.

He refused to look at the body again.

He refused.

_He killed me._

_Oh god, Arthur’s dead, I left him alone –_

_He **killed** me!_

The anger was back, and his fists clenched. Maybe it would have been all right, maybe he would’ve been free of the guilt.

If Vivi hadn’t crashed through the brambles behind him.

He whirled around, arms up, skull eyes wide and horror-struck. Vivi was staring, shaky hands clutching her face, digging into the skin, ashen white, _staring_ at the body.

There was no noise, for a bit. Just Mystery and Lewis, frozen stiff, and Vivi staring mutely at Arthur’s unmoving frame.


	5. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shiromori meets someone new...

There was power afoot. She could _smell_ it.

A spacious, barren roadway. A trail of petals. A very out-of-place hole of dirt punctuating the smooth, hard asphalt. A pair of beady eyes scanned the area; a brow quirking above them. The trail was strong.

So was whatever had caused this wreckage. Shiromori huffed. No mutt. He must have sensed her coming and booked it. That wouldn’t work now. She was too close. Her lip curling, she slid back into the earth and followed the trial.

But then, she found she was looping around again. The petals – the essence – it was leading her back the way. Begrudgingly, she let it, reappearing on the dirt road down by the brambles. A familiar aura lingered her, and she wracked her brain to remember it – ah, yes. That trio, whoever they were. Muddle up with the mutt’s essence. Companions, perhaps? Little friends.

How fun.

She sneered, nostrils flaring. The trail was running thin, not gone, but thin. If only she’d been able to hold onto that purple spirit’s power a little longer...it would have given her more of a _kick_ in the entrance.

She continued moving, striding slowly through the brambles. She stroked a finger along the harsh wood of the crooked trees, leaving them to contort and twitch behind her. Her grin stretched ever the wider.

She stopped.

Hmm...close by. A waver in the air. She lifted her nose, a hand, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together. Ah, there it was – fresh, very fresh essence. Golden orange...the slight taste of western snacks. She rose a brow again, and followed it.

She flexed her fingers, and again, a small, orange-brown daisy appeared. She cackled inwardly. An interesting little detour, especially if it concerned the _friend of a friend._

She followed it, her mind’s eye raking through the atmosphere.

All the signs were clear. The weakening between the walls, the loose magic. Someone had _died_ tonight.

She wondered...hmmm.

She continued on into the woods, a little off the trail. Darker, more enclosed, a little hidey-hole of curling over bushes and thickets. She closed her eyes, and lifted the flower to her lips, and blew. The petals came away with ease, and drifted to a little spot in the middle of that thicket.

This spirit had fled. Natural response for it, judging by the fickle little daisy. Weak. But in death...perhaps not entirely useless. 

Smirking viciously, she pulled out her sheaves. She reached down to the little spot the petals had fallen, clenched her free hand, and drew the essence _out._

It faded in, materialised, as if it had always been there. Well, it had been, she’d just drawn him out, is all. A lanky, scrawny little spirit curled up on the floor. She saw a black waistcoat outlined in gaudy orange, a yellow tie fastened the utterly incorrect way.

Confused, uncertain eye sockets peered around, orange lights within blinking blearily in and out of existence –

Then they landed on her. Shiromori’s grin widened, sharp teeth twinkling in the moonlight, in a way that would give Jaws a run for his money, as she leered forward. The sockets widened, the stand-up fuzz of hair on the skull stood up straighter, and he cowered away.

A star blinked on the shoulder where the arm should be, buzzing madly.

The scissors brandished close.

 The skull shook from side to side madly. “...!”

“Hello there, little spirit. I’m sure you’ll be a _great help_ to me.”

...

Vivi, as a paranormal investigator, had always wanted to live through an ‘out of body’ experience. Or see some shift in reality, some bogging new outlook that only the ghostly and unworldly could manage. But now...it wasn’t so much an out-of-body experience as it was an out-of-world one. As in, she felt as if she’d been ripped out of her own world and thrust into some kind of alternate horror, where Arthur was lying as white as chalk on the floor, so limp and quiet, Arthur was never this quiet, never that pale. A reality where Arthur was...

_Please no, oh no, this wasn’t – no, Arthur, don’t, oh god, no, no, no -_

He must have been so scared. That’s all she could think, how scared he was. How scared he always was.

She screamed at long last. Horror blanked out any other thought and she scrambled to his side, snatching him up, her hand cupping the back of his neck, his lanky hair, and clutching him to her chest. “Arthur, Arthur please – please don’t go, I’m sorry, please –“

Words failed her and she was crying, loudly, sobbing gasps as her tongue tangled. Her body sagged over his; forehead landing against forehead, so cold. “Arthur, No...”

He was gone. She wailed against his chest, body wracking with it. She pressed her cheek against his chest. He still smelled faintly of cheetos and hamster straw. She clung to his shoulders, his hair, as if he would slip away but he was already gone.

Her mind went in a loop.

Please no.

He’s gone.

No. Please.

“Arthur...” She lifted her head, her glasses had fallen but she didn’t care. Her hand cupped his cheek, gently smoothing back his fringe, “I’m so sorry. So sorry...” He was so scared, wasn’t he? When he was – How fast had it been? How afraid? He was always afraid and that was always _her_ fault –

Mystery was whining beside her. Mutely, she rocked back and further, pulling Arthur with her. His head slumped over her shoulder, arms drooping.

She had no idea how long she knelt there, wailing until her throat was raw.

But then something gleamed in the corner of her bloodshot eye. Despite herself, he glanced at it. Her specs. Reflecting light...flickering light, as in...flame...

Vivi’s stricken face turned, her sobs stifling, tears freezing on her cheeks. The phantom stood nearby, one hand out, still as a statue, eye sockets slanted in a way that looked pained, guilty, _terrified_ almost. Vivi’s face contorted, her teeth barred.

She lay Arthur down.

Then a small, five-foot something blue woman hurtled herself forward, shrieking like a gull ready to snap off the head of a fish. Her fists balled, scarf whipped, she  threw a punch but it f course phased right through him, “YOU!”

**“V-Vi-vi...!”**

On any other day she would have questioned how the murderous spook knew her name, but now she just couldn’t care less. She aimed a kick at his ribs, “ _I’ll freaking  exorcise you myself_!”

A large hand caught her net punch. She squirmed, slamming and elbow down on his arm and she actually hit some form of solidity; some pressure – but it did little harm. “Arrgh!” Another punch to the face, his skull swept out of the way. **“ _Vivi, Vivi, please, listen!”_**

His other hand seized her other wrist. The combination of the values of height, strength, and supernatural advantage, resulted in Vivi hanging from his grip a good inch up. She kicked, violently, her insides burning, “GET OFF! Get off me, you spook!”

Her legs went through his chest as he lifted her up to (somewhat) of an eye-level. For such a broad-shouldered spook, he did a fine impression of a half-drowned puppy. **“Vivi, He –“**

She emitted  soundless screech that was horribly familiar to him, cutting him off. “You killed him! You killed him!”

She kept saying it, until her struggling ceased and she hung limply from his hands, teeth grinding as it all tore at her insides. Her head fell, glasses long gone, stray azure hair sticking to her face. Arthur gone. No. Yes.

It hurt so much, all she could really do was comment on that, in her head. _This hurts, this hurts, this hurts so badly._

**“Vivi...”**

She was on the ground now, settled down carefully, like she was the one that was –

That voice. Prickling at her memory, in her head, her ears, echoing. She stared at the back of her eyelids.

**“Vivi, he deserved this. I know you don’t understand, but he...”**

Her eyes snapped open.

The ground _shook._

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘DESERVED IT, YOU BLOODY OVERDRESSED SPOOK? ALL HE DID WAS WAKE YOU UP! WE DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU, _I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU! SO QUIT TALKING TO ME LIKE YOU KNOW WHO I AM!”_

She panted, body heaving, hands curled, gaze peering through the ghost’s forehead. He lifted a hand, shakily. _“ **V-Vivi...it’s me...”**_

A suave, but joking voice, putting on a tone, playful hugs and the smell of peppers –

 - overwhelmed by other memories, of a trembling body in her arms, a cheesy grin and apologetic shrug –

Vivi ‘s hand came up to clutch at her face, covering her lips, hot tears streaming between her nails. Arthur. She couldn’t stop shaking. Mystery was by her side, whining fretfully, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. The ghost was stepping backwards, oddly life-like, and a small crack travelled up the golden heart on his chest.

“ **...You’ll understand, one day. I’m sorry.”**

Her eyes widened.

He was gone.

The quiet strummed around her, in her head. Silently, she stood up, and ambled to Arthur’s body again. She fell against him, burying her face in his puffy body warmer jacket, doing nothing to keep out the cold now.

“It’s all my fault. I’m sorry, Artie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry...”

Mystery squeezed between them, closing his eyes. His presence wouldn’t help, he knew that. But it didn’t matter at this point.

Nearby, a petal landed on the soil.


	6. Snip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur literally goes out from the frying pan into the fire.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. He’d seen enough spooks, ghosts and other supernaturally inclined creeps that loved to ruin his day, to know that the...woman looming over him was someone to run away from ready, really fast. He couldn’t even be happy about the fact he wasn’t in eternal darkness anymore. Arthur scrambled backwards, legs kicking out, and suddenly he was spiralling through the air. He half expected to go crashing into a tree, but he hit nothing. He flopped down again, and even though he was pretty sure he was...on the ground, he couldn’t really feel it. Like walking on the moon.

He had no time to think about it. The woman was striding over; crooked teeth bore in that horrible smirk, her face reminding him of a hyena or something else of that nutty nature. He held up his hands – hand – and scooted back. His voice wouldn’t come out, he could feel it there, in his chest, but it wouldn’t cut through.

Maybe.

Maybe it was because...he had no jaw.

 _Freakingoutfreakingoutfreakingout_ –

Something snatched at the stump of his shoulder. Arthur’s yelp came out more or less like a muffled squawk. The blue woman had seized his star-badge; it buzzed madly in her grip and a cold, numb feeling started running through him, a horribly familiar tingle.

Flashes of memory dragged themselves, unwelcomed, through his mind. Stinking, rotting flesh, green skin. Arthur knew enough to propel himself backwards, and he managed to wrench himself pretty easily from the woman’s grip...but he didn’t flop face-first the floor, nope, he was floating _upwards_. He blinked. Or at least, he thought he did.

Okay. Up in the air. Floating now. That meant he was safe, right?

He was...getting a little high now. Above the trees. Wait, that’s enough.

_YANK._

There was some vaguely familiar about this feeling. That is, the feeling of your ankles being tethered to the ground while you lurched forwards. Maybe he’d likened it to having his shoelaces tied in class, or his leg getting caught on an unfairly, conspicuously hand-shaped spooky plant on one of Vivi’s haunted wood hunts. Arthur lost his balance again, arms flailing madly as was tugged down again.

Still pretty high up.

Moonlight fell on him like a torch, and this time, he wasn’t spared the details. Bone finger, shivering on the end of a bony arm. Dapper waistcoat. Heh. Heh. That rattling sound was probably him shaking, wasn’t it? Heh...

Arthur was pretty sure that he was dead. Maybe freaking out over the _other problem_ was a good thing. Distraction, yes, good thing.

 Speaking of, he really, really needed to escape. But the plant woman was _still_ there; his feet, transparent and pointy – oh god he didn’t have _toes_ anymore – were tied by some black, non-solid tether to a... _flower_ clutched mercilessly in her hand. A little orange-brown daisy flopping mutely over her overly large fingers.

Forget for a moment the flower had a rather familiar colour scheme, and that this woman had blue skin and was wielding a pair of sheaves stylized enough to wow Vivi and her chum Chloe into a spooky- loving frenzy. What really freaked him out was what happened next.

“ _Arthur_ , isn’t it? Feeble names these days.” She said, an orange tongue running along her teeth. Arthur was almost glad he didn’t have a stomach to heave at that moment. His eye sockets slanted in a grimace. She knew his name. Crazy woman knew his name, and had him chained by magic. There really was such a thing as a fate worse than death.

Oh yeah. He was dead.

Don’t.

Don’t think –

Yike –

Another sharp pull had him back at eye level, knees curling and back arching as he did his best to lean as far away as possible, but some strange force was keeping him in place, that and the black tether. She loomed in, he could smell flowers and petals and _don’tcomeanycloser._

“You.” She said, curt and deliberately slow, as if she were talking to a toddler, “Will show me the mutt. And help me bring him down. Hmm?”

Mutt?

Mutt?

Hang on...

**Mystery?**

_Big tails, black figure, teeth the side of kitchen knives, sinking into the skin and tearing. Eyes gleaming from a silhouette._

He didn’t understand. He didn’t get any of this. But he knew what he knew about Mystery – he’d saved him. He was Vivi’s...dog. He was on his side, and this white-haired quack grinning below him wasn’t. So.

In a panic-induced boldness he reached down and grabbed the back tether around his ankles and pulled. She was cackling, shoulders hunched, watching him struggle. His star-badge buzzed madly by his shoulder, and he blinked at the sharp, spiky sides. Hmmm...He plucked it off his stump and began sawing at the tether.

The woman’s eye twitched. “ _What_ do you think you’re –“

SNIP.

It...It worked! He was...he was flying away! Arthur kicked his legs, arm flailing, the only action he could possibly think to mimic was some spasm-like swim. It seemed to work a little, as he started bobbing away from her, drooping down into the trees. Shiromori watched him, mouth hanging open by an inch. “...”

She growled, crushed the flower in her hand (Arthur felt a horrible chill run through his entire form) and disappeared into the ground. Arthur stared. Okay. Did that mean she was _HOLY CR –_

There was a little burrowing line speeding after him and he had three good guess who it was. Arthur pivoted his body, twisting madly to try and grab some form of a bearing, and failed miserable. He clawed at the air, and then he was zooming forwards right towards a tree –

He threw up his arm, yelping, readying himself for a loud crack and imminent pain but...nothing happened. He felt a little weird, though, uncomfortable. He looked back to see the same tree getting further and further behind him. He’d gone through it.

Oh. Oh yeah.

He turned to look ahead, and maybe he’d have grown a snippet of confidence...if the blue woman hadn’t grown into being just a few yards in front of him, sheathes and all.

“ACK -!”

...

Vivi only vaguely registered Mystery tugging her away. He’d always been a smart dog. Obviously. Eventually, the body – Arthur – was tucked under a sheet. Mystery had gone back to the wreckage, and returned. Seeing bits and pieces of their poor van made her move. Plan. Work. Part of her knew she was delaying it, that it would make it worse, but as she dragged the supernatural-finding equipment onto her lap, she decided she could live with that. Arthur certainly wasn’t.

Her eyes shrouded by dusk, Vivi pushed open the laptop and hooked up the wave scanner. They’d used it, once, to track disturbed frequencies. Usually spooks were hanging around, scrambling radios and whatnot. Usually she’d be jubilant to find every signal for miles was jamming violently.

But not, she almost expected this. The powerful wraith had to be close, still. Her nails dug into the side of the laptop screen. She wanted to look. It would be easy, turn your head, look at Arthur, huddled still and pale under the sheet.

She blinked rapidly.

Find the wraith.

Exorcise the ever loving _shit_ out of him.

Then she would. She promised. Just – not now.

She couldn’t. Not yet.

...

The wraith watched the petals curl, one by one. The blue and purple flower had started to shrivel when he left. Now, it wasn’t really possible to tell what colour it had been, whether or not it had been as azure and beautiful and alive as her. Lewis’s large fingers squeezed the stem, tighter, and yet the flower didn’t crumble. It wasn’t his hold that was making it wilt.

He’d hurt her so badly. Happy, funny, smiley Vivi. He hadn’t thought. Because that’s what happened, he got angry, and he didn’t think. He’d never regret killing Arthur –

_HeWAsLyiNg –_

Arthur deserved to die. And he’d made it quick. Quicker than it suited him. His hand shook. No. If Arthur appeared right by him, now, he’d do it again. But Vivi. Would she ever get over it? Would this haunt her forever? That wasn’t what he _wanted_.

He’d half expected to vanish, you know, his dept paid and all. But now there was another reason he couldn’t rest, and the reason? He stood up, slowly, his heart’s pulse decidedly subdued. The reason was, he’d made the person he loved more than anything in this world miserable, and there was no way he could undo it.

The flower crumbled away; petals shrivelling over his fingers. His eye sockets slanted; he moved no move to brush them away.

Something collided roughly with his back. Lewis tipped forward, but his dug-in dress shoes did a remarkable job of keeping him upright. His arms flew up, petals flittering to the floor. What on earth -?”

He turned, one socket arching in as he scanned the area...

Down.

A spirit had barrelled right into him. It was cowering on the floor, knees and arms curled against a shabby waistcoat and quite frankly terribly rendered yellow tie. Lewis’ skull brow lifted ever the higher. Perhaps he hadn’t meant it, but the effect made him even more menacing.

The spirit made a muffled sound. Probably a shriek of terror.

And then Lewis saw it. The hair, not fire, just light, standing up in a messy bundle. Wide, fearful eyes, a narrow, skinny frame.

One arm.

A star blinking madly on the stump of the other.

For a moment, all the did was stare at each other.

Fire caught.

_Arthur._

**_ARTHUR._ **

 

He still existed.

He was still...

_That -_

Lewis’s hands curled into fists. Magenta flames burst around the bone. The smaller spirit scuttled back, beads of sweat somehow appearing on the skull. Arthur turned, scrabbled, and took off. Lewis’s eyes narrowed.

Oh no he didn’t.

Calm, collected, he took off after him with far more grace.

He wasn’t going _anywhere._


	7. Sprout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two ghosts experience an extreme level in gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only reason these updates are coming out so fast is because, short chapters, and free time that probably won't last; I hope to get this done before september (then I'll be swamped with work). I'm amazed at how many people are enjoying this XD

_Oh no oh no oh no ni-ni-ni-ni no –_

The forest was quiet. Still. Somewhere, a cricket was chirping. The dirt trail was vacant, empty, and devoid of any night time activity.

WHOOSH.

Arthur practically exploded through the thicket, swirling madly around a tree trunk, narrowly avoiding another barrel-roll in mid air. Even if he had no stomach to heave, his mental state couldn’t take another loss of balance. There was no time to lose balance right now. Somehow his swoop into the forest had sent the trees into a frenzy. Could he do that – No, no, focus on – _ohGOdNo –_

Lewis had just missed grabbing his ankle. Arthur buckled up, basically curling into a foetal position mid-air to avoid being caught. This, of course, resulting in him flipping over. He caught a glimpse of Lewis’s skeletal face blazing with fury at yet another miss. Arthur’s slanted eyes widened even more if possible. “Mmmph!”

Lewis’s fists clenched, magenta flames igniting around them, and he hurtled a blast towards him. Arthur banked to the right, but surprisingly the blast didn’t seem to be aiming directly for him. Just beside him. To knock him, you guessed it, off balance. Of course, he couldn’t be murdered again, but judging by Lewis’s glower, he didn’t care.

Arthur frantically swooped downward and Lewis followed, backhanding a couple of branches out of the way even though he could phase right through them. Arthur ducked behind a tree –

The tree was on fire now.

He took off again, Lewis hot on his tail. Arthur had no plan, no way out, he had no idea what Lewis would do when he got his hands on him, but by god he didn’t want to find out tonight –

Then behind him –

**_“ARTHUR!”_ **

**_“AAAAH –“_ **

He shrieked, briefly, and quickened his frantic speeding. These trees went on forever, didn’t they?

_URK._

Maybe he’d been getting too used to having no solid form. The sensation was even more jarring, and horrifying, without one. Something had curled around his neck like a lasso and wrenched him down. Arthur processed a blur of dirt, trees, and thorns, then he was hitting the ground with a ‘poof’ of fuzzy yellow plasma. A ripple rattled his hazy form and he shuddered.

But then something coiled around his arm. His legs. It was the black substance – stuff – tethers again, swarming over him like an ant colony, tangling him up. Arthur kicked a leg out, sweat pouring down his skull by some madness of the supernatural. Oh god, Oh god, what was happening _now_ -?!

Something clutched his head. He felt cold, bloodless skin digging into his skull and it was being wrench around one-eighty. Arthur’s bright yellow pupils were snuffed. Blue lady. Blue lady’s back and she’s close oh _please get away!_

She released his skull, letting him hang there; the tar-like ectoplasm stuff (he assumed, madly, Vivi’s phrases sprinkling along his frazzled mind) hoisting him in mid air. He couldn’t move again. He decided then on, that if there was anything he loathed, it was being unable to move...

He made a weak, muffled noise of protest. The tree woman leant back, a large hand brandishing out and fingers curling, gripping some invisible force or whatever and –

A shudder danced up his spine. Stop. Stop that now, stop it!

His badge buzzed, bleak as it was – and again the black tethers began to shrivel. Her smirk faltered. “You listen here, spirit.” She slammed a hand over his skull, giving it a rattle. “You do as I say and maybe I’ll send you to the other side on one piece!”

Arthur’s mind blanked out.

The star turned white hot. The tethers melted away, decaying. He hated that word, he thought, blearily. The woman drew back, some strange emotion flickering across her face. What was her problem? Nothing scary about him, he had to be the skinniest skeleton one ever did see –

Oh, he was free.

He zoomed, back, back the way, home free baby. Wait. Hadn’t he been...?

_Oh my god._

It had only been two and a half minutes, and Lewis had found him again. The pink-purple spirit appeared in a flurry of fire, appearing right in front of him. Arthur half expected to hear a skidding sound-effect, he hit the breaks that hard. He still knocked violently into his former friend’s torso and was sent sprawling backwards, skull swirling.

He flipped onto the ground before him. Lewis glowered down at him, back straight, fists clenched, one eye socket arching. Arthur lifted the hand he did have, quivering.

  _Please Lewis. Please. I can’t take any more._

A shuffle. Lewis glanced behind the smaller spirit. His eye sockets broadened, a little. The blue woman had drawn near, tongue sliding over her protruding tooth. She looked about as cuddly as a snake. And Arthur was stuck between them.

“You.” Lewis remarked, flatly. His hair was flaring dangerously. The blue woman tilted her head, snickering loudly. Arthur’s skull whipped back and further between them, one finger rising.

Er...

Lewis pointed down at him without even looking. The gesture’s meaning was clear – _shut it._ Arthur felt an odd emotion pass through his body – bones? Form? Who cared. Reproachfulness. Did he get to treat him that way?

_Weren’t we even? Are – aren’t we, like, the same now?_

_Yeah,_ said a bitter little part of him, _only you deserved it and he didn’t._

Arthur’s arm dropped.

“Matching motives, how darling.” The blue woman drawled, “Maybe I’ll make a collection out of you both...though I do remember there being _three_ flowers.”

Oooh, no. Arthur ducked his head. Lewis’s eyes had blinked out via inferno and his fist flew out – but this time the woman vanished clean into the ground, swooping underneath him and appearing directly in front of Arthur. The lanky spirit reeled away. Lewis scowled, spinning around to try and face her.

“Just give me the little one, then.” She crooned, flexing her fingers out. A familiar orange-brown daisy sprouted forth on her palm. Arthur felt that same shudder-like pulse rattle his body. Slowly, very slowly, Lewis’s eyes slid towards him.

He stared back.

Another tether coiled around his wrist. Arthur’s hair stood up even further on end, Oh no _not again._

Lewis’s fist buried itself in the woman’s face. The sound it gave off on impact vaguely resembled a stick snapping. Arthur gaped; or he could had be the other half of his face. Lewis watched, totally stoic, as the plant woman’s head ripped clean off her body, and oh, landed nearby. He did it as if this was a normal thing to do this early, before breakfast.

Then, Lewis snatched him up by the ankle – so he dangled upside down – and took off. Arthur’s voice finally broke through the muffled mental gag and he yelped, but then the world around them blurred and suddenly...no forest, no trail. They were...by the road again. The van lay in pieces.

He was dropped. Lewis was looking at the Mystery Van, perhaps a regretful look wavering over his face.

 Arthur scooted back just a little – And Lewis’s skull snapped around to face him.

He flinched.

Lewis floated over, setting himself directly in front of him, casting a tall, angry shadow over his shivering frame. Arthur madly drummed his fingers against the dirt. Heeeey Lewis.

Wait.

“L-Lewis...” His voice sounded so weird, like when you hear it in a mobile video or an old Christmas tape. With added echo. He grimaced, quirky thoughts doing nothing to ward off the awful sensation rattling his...self. Okay. Calm. “Lewis.” He said, again, though the latter was glaring violent daggers into his face, “Y-you saved me...Wh-why -?”

“For Vivi.” The wraith replied curtly. Arthur glanced down.

“A-ah...”

“She’ll want you back.”

Vivi...oh no. Did she know? “Oh God.” Hands rose to grip at barely-there locks, tight. Oh no. She was probably – it was –

“This is all my fault.” His voice cracked. Lewis’s luminous pupils slid eastward, as if he were trying not to look at him, - but again, any kind of non-rage emotion was brief when it came to this phantom. Arthur felt a pang and wondered if –

 Lewis  glared, sharply, as if he’d just thought of something.

“Well. Since you still _exist.”_ The ghost said, apparently not very happy about it, “You’d better start talking.”

T-talking...? Arthur’s sockets shifted in confusion, quivering from shoe point to hair tip. Lewis knelt down, and still he managed to look overly menacing and overly _tall._

“Don’t play dumb. I can’t kill you again, but I can make you wish I could.” Arthur’s bony form spasmed, Lewis was never this cold, “Why?”

Why...?

Oh. Oh no.

Lewis leant in, so their foreheads were but an inch away. Arthur was leaning back, his eyes just pinpoints. “Why. Did. You. Kill me?”

Arthur tried to make a sound, but nothing came. How could he possibly explain it all? The arm – his arm – the thing? When he didn’t even understand it himself. He glanced down. Oh, no. He understood what happened. His fingers dug further into his hair. It’s odd, feeling your own hair burning. And your own hand pushing your friend off a cliff. See? Happened just like that. Him trying to focus on silly things like that when something else was muttering in his ear, reminding him of the darker, less friendly thoughts he’d started having about his best friend. Only it stopped working.

Lewis’s eyes sockets narrowed. “Was it Vivi?”

Vivi...what did – Oh. Arthur’s bright pupils flickered in and out of visibility, and he supposed that counted as rapid blinking. He thought – “No, No, Lewis, that wasn’t it at all!”

“Then what? Or are you lying to my face about that, too?”

“I didn’t l-lie...”

“Clearly.” Lewis hadn’t been a very sarcastic person in life, but he had it down now, eyes rolling skyward, “I must have imagined you pretending not to hate me up until you nudged me off a cliff.”

Arthur’s hand lifted, shaking, “L-Lewis, I didn’t – I don ‘t –“

Lewis had stopped listening. Instead he was staring at something near the wreckage of the poor, poor van. Arthur’s head swivelled.

...Ah.

Mystery was standing by the wreckage, clutching Arthur’s laptop between his teeth, staring at them in shock. His jaw clearly, this wasn’t what he’d been expecting to find when Vivi sent him back to the wreckage.

The little canine scowled.


	8. Bark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which blue meets blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to slow down after this; I wasn't as happy with this chapter and it was harder to write. I'm a little busier now, so updates won't be as fast. But, eight chapters isn't bad for almost three weeks, huh?

Mystery should be back by now. Vivi dragged down the top half of her laptop, eyeing the trees nearby with a pointed gaze. Her face felt stiff, she could still smell the salt on her cheeks, and the way her muscles had pulled themselves into a frown – she wasn’t used to it, and it was beginning to hurt. Even so, he didn’t try to undo it all. The blue-clad woman set her laptop down; this empty square where a house should be had been turned into a makeshift hub.

 Mystery had been sent back and forth while she worked; bring the ecto-scan, the board, a good load of salt, her laptop. She felt bad sending him back so much, but she...she didn’t want to look at the van. Arthur would be upset about it.

Vivi’s hand shook.

She needed to call the police. She needed to tell his Uncle Lance. Her head turned, and at last, she looked at the body, nestling under the sheet. Vivi’s eyes were wide; she knew it, enough to strain against her eyelids. Can you feel yourself going pale? She’d never known that.

She couldn’t put it off. Arthur’s body would – no. She closed her eyes, only her hands shaking. Only her hands, chattering against the keyboard. It hadn’t even been two hours. Two hours, huh. Two hours of this new life already gone.

She opened her eyes, put the laptop down, and walked over to the body. Ignoring the urge to grip her face, she felt her lips wobble as she clasped the end of the sheet, and lifted it.

Arthur didn’t look restless, nor did he look peaceful. He just...wasn’t there. Vivi heard a small, whimper-like sound, and it took her a moment to realise that it was _her._ Her hand came up to grip her jaw, muffling her lips.

“I’m sorry, Artie.”

Back the sheet went. Now the tears were back, but she moved. She needed to. Hand into pocket, grip the cell phone, and press ‘call’. Put in the numbers.

Wait.

The phone had no signal. Was she relieved? Maybe a little, though she knew it was wrong. Just a little longer to think, to breathe. Her fingers dug into the phone, and she stared at the words: No signal.

Was it the wraith, or just bad reception?

Something rustled. Vivi’s eyes moved, but the rest of her body had gone stiff. She wasn’t afraid; in fact, she couldn’t really remember what it felt like. Her head turned. A little flower sat among the brambles. Her nose wrinkled.

“Hmm...”

A near sultry voice, laced and bitter with mirth. Vivi’s head whipped around to the left. The first thing she saw was blue. Then white, then _hands._ Her mind read explanations out to her like a textbook. Gauze around the hands, no feet, peg-like limbs. Attire – Japanese. Same with the plant. The one on her, head, the white bush. Vivi’s arm lowered _very_ , very slowly. She wasn’t stupid. She could practically smell the threat radiating off this creature.

Not a ghost, or a spirit. Too solid. Vivi straightened up. Had this woman showed up yesterday, maybe her welcome would have been far more pleasant – in fact Vivi would have been over the moon to meet something that was clearly out of _Japanese Folklore._

And before you ask, Vivi knew how to spot a cosplay from the real thing. “...Who are you?”

The woman grinned. A dragon had flatter teeth. “I am Shiromori. I rather like your choice in colour, though I’m afraid it won’t help.”

Cheery. Vivi squinted. “...Okay. What do you want?”

The smirk grew, and the woman held out a hand. Vivi shifted back, just a little, but instead of some unwarranted spell flying towards her instead she saw the woman’s large fingers uncurl to reveal...and little blue flower. With a pink-purple centre.

Her grip on her cell phone tightened.

“The essence surrounding you is strong. You practically reek of it, girl.” The woman said, sounding a little annoyed – though her grin remained firmly in place. She tilted her head, “Which means all I have to do is wait until the mutt gets back.”

“Mutt?” Vivi shoved her phone into her pocket. If she held it any longer she was sure it would snap. Something bubbled in the back of her head; she balled one fist and pointed the other –

“Look, Lady, I am not in the mood for riddles. Maybe I was a week ago, but not now!”

Shiromori’s smile vanished then, a brow arching as Vivi stormed forward, prodding her shoulder with blue-painted nails, “So just tell me what you want! I’ve already got one wraith on my list of exorcisms, _feel free to take a number!”_

Shiromori’s face stiffened. “Wraith?” She echoed.

Vivi’s eyes narrowed behind broken specs. Shiromori’s grin returned with a vengeance,

“The one with a tacky obsession with _magenta_?”

“...Yes. You know him?” Vivi began, uneasily, and the woman laughed. Then she sunk – literally sunk – into the earth. Vivi jumped aside as the earth rippled beneath her, trekking a good few meters until the woman popped up again. She turned away, one hand gesturing offhandedly to the side. Vivi’s glare deepened.

“Oh, I met him some time ago. Seemed very focused on _you_ and that bimbo with you.”

“Me?” Vivi bristled. Her? _Why?_

She’d asked that, with a good few attempted punches. And he hadn’t answered. Talking like he knew her. “He must be mixing me up with someone else.”

“Stupid brat, don’t you know how essence works? Ghosts don’t make mistakes.” Shiromori turned back to face her, a finger drawing a swift line across her chin, “Hmm...Though I don’t sense a lie. What a fun little drama you have here. Maybe I’d be interested if the dog was more involved.”

Vivi threw up her hands, “MY dog? Mystery? What do you want my dog for?”

Shiromori wasn’t smirking anymore.

Her hand had fallen away from her chin, and Vivi hadn’t a clue why. She was staring at her face like it had changed colour or something. “What?!”

Shiromori’s eyes narrowed. “...Nothing. That is, you know nothing, someone made it so. You’re about as useful as this flower.”

And she crushed the little lily in her palm. The sensation that swept over Vivi next was like having a needle jabbed into your spine and being dipped in a bucket of cold water, all at once. Her body jarred. “Er –“

Her eyes hurt.

And a familiar coiling feeling was snaking up and her ankle. Oh no. Not today. Vivi stamped her free foot down on the roots trying to fuse themselves to her shoe, and sped forward towards her equipment. Arthur’s screwdriver was snatched off the ground and out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman pulled out a very large pair of sheers.

The woman’s smile stretched all the way up one side of her face. “Let’s dance, little ghost girl. Waiting is such a _tedious_ task.”

...

The laptop fell from Mystery’s teeth to the road with an ear-shattering _clang._

Perhaps it was a good thing that most present no longer had them. Arthur sent his battered accessory woebegone look. “My laptop...”

Lewis sent him a scathing look, and all sympathies for his laptop vanished and he ducked away. Mystery gave a brief growl and started forward, tiny tail swishing. Arthur’s spindly form jarred. Oh no, was he going to – didn’t Lewis _know_?

Apparently he didn’t know about Mystery, seeing as he was eyeing the little dog as if he were, well, a little dog. “Go away, Mystery.” He said, flatly. There was no hatred, not for the canine, but he apparently didn’t like the fact that the dog was angry with _him_.

With a hop, the dog had positioned himself between the two spectres; spectacles glinting in the blurry light. Lewis tilted his head upwards, a terrible familiar gesture, Arthur recalled a time Lewis wanted to go ‘check out the basement’ and Mystery decided that wasn’t happening and parked himself in his way. That tiny dog, barricading a doorway from a seven-foot man.

The memory stung worse than ever. Lewis made no move to negotiate; he reached out and seized the back of Mystery’s collar and started heaving him gently, but firmly, out of the way –

Arthur wasn’t...quite sure what happened next. Lewis’s skeleton hand burst. Like a balloon animal, it simply popped out of being. It didn’t appear to hurt, though, actually Lewis just stared at the now skeletal stump he had at the end of a broad sleeve. Lewis reeled back. “What?”

Arthur poked his two index fingers together, slowly. “Um, Lewis.” He began, as Mystery sat down, cold and calm with a dangerously deadpan expression, “There’s something I...er, have to tell you.”

“How did you do that?” The spectre wasn’t looking at him anymore, but Mystery. Mystery, whose gazes slid to nowhere in particular, canine shoulders lifting in a sigh. This display only seemed to put the wraith further on edge. He gripped his wrist, tighter, his hand slowly re-forming with a snap.

Arthur shivered. He couldn’t force down the whimper, and that stole the other ghost’s attention back for a moment. “If I don’t get answers, Mystery here or not, I’m going to make you wish you’d crossed over.”

Arthur grimaced as Lewis made to float over again, but once more, Mystery put himself between them. No growl, just a heated scowl. Lewis’s eyes flared dangerously. Arthur floated upwards, trying his best to ‘stand’ like he used to. It was a difficult feat when you had no weight.

Lewis’s fists curled, and again, Arthur could see a glisten of purple begin to fester. Mystery saw it, too, and he _growled._

Only it wasn’t the inward, quiet grumble of their little dog. It was a thick, canine snarl, tearing breath and an _echo_ to the edge. Arthur almost felt it ripple through his skull. Lewis floated back, just a yard, staring down at him. Arthur could almost see the wheels spinning in his head.

“...Mystery?”

He almost sounded hurt; the dog was his friend, too, once. Just another thing he wasn’t aware of, another thing being kept from him. Arthur felt something in him falter in guilt. Heavy, familiar guilt.

“Lewis...”

“You knew what he did.” Lewis’s gaze hardened on the little dog, who simply looked back at him, empty and stiff. “Didn’t you?”

Arthur didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t have to.

Mystery bent his head, and nodded. He closed his eyes, and for a moment Arthur wondered if he’d let Lewis pass – but then he opened again, and the former mechanic saw that familiar yellow gleam, the one he’d seen in his nightmares, two yellow balls pinpointing against a green fog in his mind –

The darkness in Lewis’s eyes decreased rapidly, and Arthur must have mirrored his expression by now. A sickly, fleshy sound emitted from the little dog’s back; Arthur saw his tail twitched and his spine arch, then grow, the little body was stretching before their very eyes and the worst part was that he could _hear_ the bones moving.

For once, Lewis looked as disturbed as he felt, as Mystery’s little form grew into a giant, long-snouted shape, and half a dozen tales swept past the moonlight, cutting it away from the scene.

The creature eyed them both through yellow glasses, planted elegantly on his snout still.

Then, his eyes widened, so suddenly it through both spooks off guard. “Mystery?” Arthur piped. His ghostly frame was suddenly wracked by a very, very bad feeling. What? What could it possibly be this time?!

The giant canine turned his head, eyes practically bulging.

_“Vivi.”_

Oh.

There’s that.


	9. Creep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vivi undertakes extreme gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aheh...heh...sorry for the wait. I have no idea when I'll be able to continue, Real Life's hit hard and I'm preoccupied. I'll see how it goes, chums.

It had no time to savour its freedom. First, and foremost, there had been the caves. Spikes, doused in green, now left to be tainted by purple. Insufferable silence. No one to see, hear, only the faraway quivering of cars and motorways. Not many passed by here, not many at all. No one stupid enough to come, no one clueless enough to lose their way. Counting spikes, rocks, caves. Hovering.

Then _they_ had come.

Then they went. Mangled without even knowing it. All of that mattered not now. It saw air. It saw moonlight. It saw the outside. But it had no time to relish. It took so long to get the limb to move without the body.

Each finger it had to twitch into being, each nerve it had to twist. It took so long to make it move, to work out the strings, to change it to its liking. Then it was the dragging, the clawing, the pulling. Fog housed in half-rotted flesh.

Time to go. It made it outside, and what did it find? A presence stinking of magic, like overly perfumed flowers. It had only just regained control of itself; it hadn’t the energy to fight the being that had come to claim its former home.

Let her have it. Only residue remained here. Heh. Alliteration. Its old wit hadn’t left it yet. A play on words wasn’t as impressive as a little friendship drama, though.

On chattering fingers, it lolled itself along and away, bounding through the forest like a sickly cat. Now to explore, and to find. There had to be something better than this _limb._

After a while, it came to a stop. A familiar presence was prickling at its form. It sensed it, no, two, three...four. Counting the _creature._

How had it hidden so well? Its essence had been meek, forgettable, and suddenly there had been a blast of energy, of raw, burning magic, so much so it had been cut off guard, and its possession had failed. If only it had seen it coming.

Strange. That creature, the magic woman. The wraith its little drama had made, all in one place. Interesting.

_Patter-patter._

The fingers clamoured along, and it crept further into the forest, unseen.

...

Mystery had taken off after dropping that wham line, and now Arthur felt colder than he’d ever known. Lewis had actually overtaken the dog, blasting forward and leaving Arthur behind. The two seemed to have forgotten that he was there.

But, he followed. He didn’t know what good he would be to Vivi, what good it would do anyone, but he wanted her to at least _know_ –

He couldn’t see Lewis. Had he teleported? Must have. Arthur needed to figure that out. Mystery hadn’t. He leaped off the road, scaling the rocky slope to the forest in a matter of moments, and the trees hid the white canine from view. Arthur tried to call after him, but he didn’t stop.

The star plastered on his shoulder buzzed forlornly. You and me both, buddy.

...Did he just talk to his badge? Arthur ran his hand over his...hair, and tried to speed up. The trees flew by them like a blur of jail cell bars. Arthur didn’t know why he’d made that comparison. He’d never been to prison. Though he ought to.

Darn it, how was he supposed to find his way back to Vivi if he lost sight of Mystery?! He was about to tug on his own skull out of frustration, but then something started blinking. His badge, again, blinking madly like one of those buzzers in a game show. Arthur paused, momentarily. Okay, how did he get it to stop? Should he ask Lewis?

Bad idea.

Hmm, maybe not then. He prodded the star, frowning in bewilderment, and the blinking stopped. It made a ‘beep’ sound instead. Arthur waited.

A burst of orange leaped from the star badge, and Arthur shrieked. The sound reminded him of those ghost sound effects you get in movies. He threw up his arm by instinct alone as he saw the orange blast boomerang back towards him...

...Hang on.

There was a little round ghost, with a star stamped onto its head, glaring at him. As if it wanted to hit him over the head. Arthur lowered his limb, blinking at it. Could it...could it lead the way? Isn’t that what your colour-coded ghost friends were meant to do?

Why was that annoyed glower...familiar?

The little ghost turned and barrelled off the road, into the trees. Arthur made a panicked noise of fright and swooped after it.

...

Lewis re-appeared in the empty mansion lot just off the forest road. For a moment, he saw nothing. His eyes flickered, bewildered, and he peered to the left. Still nothing. In fact it was quite –

A high-pitched shriek split the air, and his hair flew up in alarm. Vivi?! But turning to the right, he saw it hadn’t been a cry of fear or pain or anguish. That, my friend, had been a battle-cry. He saw Vivi in the forest trail up ahead, leaping up from a barrel-role, stumbling over her heels but keeping upright none the less. She was lifting up the remains of the Mystery Van’s spare wheel to block – were those _vines?_

Wait a moment. Two and two went together, and made fire. Lewis balled his fists and swept forward. Vivi’s glasses reflected the light of the flame, and she spun her head around to look. Her face became stricken again, and the look stun, it stun almost as bad as the phantom arch in his back – but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He thrust his arm over the attacking plants and burned them into cinders.

Past the ashes he saw the blue woman again, sneering vividly. “Don’t you have a yellow weakling to be chasing around?!”

Vivi blinked, and her lips parted in question, but before anyone could say anything else the surrounding trees buckled like bamboo in the wind. Lewis turned, Vivi turned, the _trees_ turned. Taking the eerie shape of hands, they reached out towards the spectre and human alike. Vivi’s tire wheel could do no help. The woman started cackling, shoulders shaking as she drew it out. Lewis huffed. Trees? He’d reduce them to nothing in –

_What?!_

The trees caught fire. But the fire wasn’t purple. Blue flames, smelling of burnt flowers, had engulfed the tips of the finger-like branches. They blocked Lewis’s powers like a shield. Vivi leaped to one side to avoid the flames, grimacing.

Lewis struck a fist against one of the reaching branches. It broke in two, but he wouldn’t be able to hold them _all_ off. He forced down a growl, if he had physical fingers anymore they’d be cracking under the pressure.

Them, something oh-so-familiarly barrelled into his back. His head turned, very, very slowly, to glare at the spindly spectre behind him, the only thing giving away his utter shock being the blazing o his eye sockets. Arthur, hunched over, lifted a hand. He waved it, stiffly, from side to side.

“Hi-hi Lewis, I was just AAAAAEEE –“

Lewis’s hand seized his skull – almost totally encasing it like paper covers rock, and Arthur was flying forwards towards the blue woman. He saw her eyes go wide and he phased right threw her – but the sudden ‘whoosh’ knocked her off balance. Arthur’s frame somehow remained solid enough to bounce off the floor, and he came to a hazy stop. He floated back into the air, arms and legs hanging limply towards the road.

Everything in his mind was still bouncing.

Something gripped his hair and wrenched him upright. Lewis was glaring right into his face. Arthur squawked. “You. Stay _here._ While I deal with this.”

“But I –“

Lewis’s hair flared.

Arthur would’ve closed his mouth, if he still had one. But then, when Lewis dropped him, he saw something blue and pale peering at him from a few yards behind. A little blink of...purple-pink. Purple-pink, blue, pale, _Vivi._

“Artie?” Her voice hasn’t ever been that small. Arthur’s hands shook. Lewis turned, pupils pin-pointing again, as he saw Vivi staring right by him at the smaller sceptre. Arthur trembled, but waved, sheepishly.  

Then her hands were on either side of his face and he could _feel_ her touch. Everything had been subdued and vague up until then but not, it was Vivi, like it had always been. Her face crumbled. “Vivi, wait – I’m okay. I’m okay.”

He was, in a way. He existed. But tell that to the rest of him and well, uh, all of Vivi.

He wasn’t. She was holding him to her chest, clutching him like he would slip through her fingers like sand, but it was already too late for that. They sank to the floor, Vivi pulling him with her, as she stared blurrily into the floor. You’d expected heavy sobbing, wailing, continued apologies. But when people are really torn, that’s when they stare at the floor until their eyes were so full of salt water that they couldn’t see it.

Funny logistics came to Vivi’s mind, then. She’d have to take Arthur’s body back. How would she explain this to his uncle? How long would he...stay? It depended on what type of spirit he was, and that depended on how he...

She closed her eyes. Behind her, almost like her mind had taken on a third-person view, she could tell that the purple phantom was standing behind them. Not floating, standing. The soil even shifted when he shuffled his dress shoes.

Lewis’s scowl toyed back and forth between anger and guilt.

He had the niggling feeling that he’d forgotten something –

Teeth flew by his line of sight, and for a moment, he almost felt cold. Something that looked like mystery had soared by him towards the Blue Woman, who had been pleasantly forgotten for the past five seconds.

“You’ve built yourself a soap opera, Mutt.” There was no theatrical voice, or loud cackling. Her face was stretched, fixated with deranged focus on the giant canine lying between her and the trio. Her skin could’ve cracked under the intensity.

And, on the other side of the roster, Mystery wore no expression to speak of. His tails swished with a strange sort of calmness that, in Arthur’s weary state, reminded him of a windmill.

The woman straightened up, head tilting back, arms clasping together in mock happiness. “I’ve missed you. You have no idea _how much_.”

The tiny little specs on Mystery’s nose flashed, and he said nothing. Wait, why was Arthur expecting him to say something.

Lewis was looking at him. Confusion was bubbling in a funny way on his skull-face. Lewis hated showing confusion, so he pretended it wasn’t there. No, I’m not confused, I’m furious. Shut up.

Arthur raised a finger, taking the ghostly equivalent of a breath before speaking, “Lew –“

“Shut. Up.”

A surge of blue, and a crack.

It threw Mystery off guard, even the blue woman peered behind her quarry to see what had just happened. A little mortal woman had lunged at an all-powerful wraith and managed to land a solid hit on his skull. Lewis _staggered_ , the effect so jarring life-like that Arthur felt his ribs twist.

A large hand went to his cheek. **_“Vivi?”_**

_“WHO ARE YOU?”_

Vivi didn’t shriek. She bellowed. Arthur expected Lewis to cringe, to apologise, as he once did when his – when Vivi was angry, but he didn’t. This wasn’t the Lewis he’d known. The wraith clenched his fists and pointed directly at the little yellow spook, his eyes hard.

Oh no. Please don’t.

“ **Oh, no one. Just the man he murdered.”**


	10. Cringe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arthur has a benefactor.

Arthur almost wished the tree lady would do something. But she didn’t. He was only faintly aware of the whistle in the air, of the blink of light across Mystery’s glasses, and his own face reflected in the pink hue of Vivi’s. _Vivi._

And Lewis. His presence was like a bonfire; being near him as he radiated hatred made something inside Arthur’s non-corporeal form bleed. It made him want to scream, to run and hide, to drop to the earthy floor in loud, childish sobs. But he didn’t. Vivi blinked, and the spell was broken as her voice, shrill and disbelieving, cut through him like a knife,

 _“Killed_ you _? Arthur_?”

The sockets housing Lewis’ eyes were narrowing. His fists were shaking, and Arthur remembered a time when they’d argued, back in high school, and Lewis had done the exact same thing. Remembered the way his hair fell between his eyes and how those terrible bangs made him lose the staring contest.

Vivi was standing between them, arms risen, she barely came up to the phantom’s collarbone. “There’s some mistake. _You’ve made a mistake.”_

She went on like that until her words blurred. The worst part about it was that Lewis didn’t interrupt her, didn’t contradict her. That could only mean one thing – that he was certain of his own mind, and that nothing Vivi could say could change it. That he was right, so what did her argument matter?

But, for a moment, he saw Lewis’s eyes slant the other way, and for a split second he looked so  lost and hurt because Vivi was standing up for Arthur, crying that Arthur had died, _when he had been impaled on spike in a green, green cave without anyone –_

As if reading his mind, Lewis’s eyes lifted towards him, and that look was replaced by that cold, seething abhorring. And in his mind, Arthur saw Lewis, not the skeleton, looking at him like that, and he felt his entire form go cold.

Arthur felt as though he was standing on this planet by himself, completely cut off from everyone, and completely alone. The truth he’d been trying to ignore with chants in his head and little distractions was flooding through him.

He wanted so badly to just disappear.

The moment that thought trickled through him, and felt himself being sucked back. Like a soap stud down a plug hole, something yanked him back. The sensation was akin to breathing in too deeply. And he was back in the darkness, alone, but there was no cold and no space, his arm and leg was crushed against his torso like he’d been stuffed into a little box. _What the –_

...

Lewis felt more of a dulled surprise when Arthur suddenly vanished. It wasn’t spectacular, he just fade with a hapless little blink, like a kicked puppy. At first he was sure the other spectre had ran for it, like the coward he was. But instead he was greeted by the Blue Woman’s grinning face, and something pulsing weakly in her palm. The sight was reminiscent of a game character or something as equally comical, but the way her skin pulled when she grinned said everything but.

Arthur’s star was blinking weakly between her fingers, in a way that seemed oddly resigned. Lewis didn’t know whether that pissed him off more.

Vivi figured it out before he did, apparently, slamming her foot down. “Give him back, you hussy! I still need to get to the bottom of this!”

“This little soul is tainted, girl.” The Blue Woman’s eyes swerved over each of them, delight pulling her skin inhumanly tight. Lewis clenched his fists and forced himself to be _patient._ He’d get hold of Arthur again eventually and once this woman was out of the way –

“Such a delicious muddle. Nothing special about this wretch in life, but he’s been touched by something else, turning every little flaw into a juicy reservoir. Fear, self-loathing, hope,” Her eyes narrowed onto Lewis, and he lifted his fist in silent retort.

“Jealousy.”

Lewis’s eye sockets widened a tad, but not in surprise. Jealousy. It was obvious, of course, Arthur’s motives, but hearing it said aloud made something in him boil.

“How ironic, after chasing your tail all this times, it’s me that’s calling a time out!” The woman called, and Mystery’s muzzle lifted in surprise – and suspicion. She turned on her heel, holding the little star up like one would a pocket mirror. Vivi stepped forward – and a row of thorns erupted up in front of her. A small hitch in her breath, and Vivi drew back, flexing her fingers.

“Oh, don’t worry, Girl. You’ll see your sidekick again soon enough, once he’s properly marinated.” The woman’s smile vanished and a more business-like look wrapped across her features.

She tucked both arms up by her sides. Vivi’s eyes broadened in alarm, “Wait –“

She vanished into the soil. Lewis blasted over the thorns, and from the trinket on his chest three neon-pink balls of light sprang into life and dove into the earth after her. But something, stinging akin to burning water mixed in with poisonous nettles, sent all four reeling back.

The Dead Beets shrieked at this discomfort and Lewis could almost feel the inside of his skull chattering. The lights of his eyes disappeared for but a second and when they relit, the woman, Arthur, and even the hole in the ground was gone.

Mystery was sitting between him and Vivi, back to his ‘normal’ size and staring mutely at the floor. Vivi looked crestfallen, her legs still in a fighting stance but her arms hanging. For a moment, all three of them just stood there.

Vivi didn’t really care that her glasses had fallen off her nose, and that her dog had shrunk again. She could put her finger on what she felt, this...heavy, yet twisting sensation in her chest. Then she realised. She felt...helpless.

Her hands shook.

She marched over to Mystery and seized his collar, but stopped. She couldn’t bring himself to yank at him like some owners did, not even then, but her fingers curled so tight that they hurt. “What. The hell.” She gestured at the spot the woman had vanished, her voice rising until it seemed deafening ** _. “WAS THAT?”_**

Lewis turned his head – skull – to frown at the dog, though his anger still seemed directed at someone else. Without looking at him, Vivi shifted her gesture into a finger-point his way. “Shut it! Not now!”

She completed missed his almost-hurt look. Mystery was, in turn, staring at the soil below his claws. Vivi gave him a little shake, “Come on, I saw you turn into a giant kitsune demon! I know you can answer me on this one!”

 _“That doesn’t matter.”_ Lewis said, flatly. Vivi finally, finally looked at him, and it seemed the anger evaporated on the spot. Vivi’s face was stricken with rage all right, but the sheer hurt pulling at her face – it was enough to make him want the ground to swallow him up.

“Vivi, please listen.”

 _“Urgh!”_ She reeled away from the dog and clamped her hands over her head, screwing her eyes shut.  “You keep acting like I know you when I don’t! Arthur is _dead_ , Lewis!”

Lewis’s hand hovered up, hesitantly. She’d said his name, at least. Perhaps without even realising. _“Because you forgot.”_

Vivi looked over her shoulder, her hands slowly coming away. Her face was pale, and she there was a decidedly sagged look about her all of a sudden and he hated it. But she was listening.

 _“I suppose Arthur’s been acting odd lately, yes?”_ Lewis frowned when he saw Vivi glance sideways. _“You want to know why?”_

Mystery was finally looking at her, a resigned pain littering his features. As if he knew what was coming but saw best not to stop it. But he didn’t like it at all. Vivi breathed in and faced the spectre with what she hoped was a new resolve.

“Alright.”

...

The worst thing about being dead was all these new...senses. And Arthur had no way of describing them. One moment he was squashed into a dark space, certain he was about to go mad with claustrophobia but likewise happy he was somewhere no one – not Lewis, not Vivi, could find him, the next he felt...something. Not quite a pull, just an awareness that someone else was there, that he wasn’t alone. That, my friend, was not a good feeling.

And he heard something, a scuttling sound like a bug or some weird kind of rat. He opened his eyes...or whatever ghosts did when they tried to look at something. Scuttle, scuttle. He hoped it wasn’t a spider. A spider in a tiny box, which he was in. That would be actual _hell._

Then, through the dark, he saw something move. His entire embodiment of being zoned in on it. His eyes followed it as he scrambled slowly across his field of vision, walking like it was on some flat, smooth surface rather than a black abyss.

Hang on. That isn’t a rat.

Arthur’s eye sockets went pitch black, and had he seen it, he would’ve ogled at his own reflection.

_That’snotaratthat’snotaratohgodohnooh._

With a scuff, the object came to a halt; half of its mass flipping upright like some kind of antenna; poised on five thin, gnarly digits. A wristband flashed yellow, bright and polarised against the darkness. His armband. On his arm. And he could do nothing, not even scream. All Arthur could do was stare at it. Aside from it being, well, an _arm_ it almost looked like it was listening for something, or looking around. With whatever senses a possessed arm could have, it was surveying the area.

It pivoted on the spot, the forearm flopping slightly to one side. Arthur suppressed a shudder and prayed it wouldn’t locate him.

The blackness was...fading out. Slowly, resonating from the arm and coming into view was a familiarly rocky ground. Brambles. Arthur squinted a little. Wait, they’d just passed this road! His arm was moving and it was close by where Lewis and Vivi...

Arthur’s pupils reappeared with a loud pop.

“Oh no.”

The arm turned towards him with an ominous, sickly little creak. And then it vanished alongside the image – vision? – of the moonlit area. That rushing pull Arthur had felt before was still there, but it was fainter. Loose.

He had to get out of here. Shifting his elbows and wriggling around, though, didn’t seem to help. He gave up after about five minutes and huffed. How was he supposed to get out if he didn’t even know where the sweat lovable _mac and cheese_ he was?!

_Buzz._

He paused. That had sounded oddly like the noise the radio made whenever he changed station. But what was – Oh.

With another ‘buzz’ a round, scowling little being had appeared before him, its cheeks puffed out in disapproval, bushy brows so low it obscured its own eyes. Arthur stared back at it and wiggled his fingers slightly in greeting.

It seized hold of his bowtie and tugged. Hard. Before he knew it he was being dragged violently from that small space and bursting back out into the cold, empty air of the forest.

And right into the mouth of the cave.

Arthur was glad he couldn’t scream. He almost felt himself fall apart at the sight of it, but the sight of the Blue Woman’s broad sneer saved him for a few precious seconds. She seemed annoyed, but not overly surprised by his escape.

But she was still holding his badge in her large, oversized hand. Her lip curling downwards, the woman clenched her fingers over the trinket.

Arthur didn’t just feel like he was being turned inside out. It felt like his very soul was being squeezed, and every bad emotion he’d ever felt or ever suppressed was pouring out. _Why here? Why did she drag me here, of all places, why here?_

“Clashing thoughts are rare among ghosts.” She was saying throughout it all, completely nonplussed as she trembled violently in the air. She turned the badge over, slipping it between her fingers like a coin. “Usually those half-minded beings only have one thought left, to keep them tethered. Your essence will be useful.”

Was that an accent? Yeah, she definitely had an accent. Something out of those corny old movies Vivi watched about old Japanese legends...

_Sitting on the floor, surrounded by parts as Vivi hugged a pillow in a growing death-grip. Mystery was snoozing._

He missed being in the room when she watched them.

“Now all we have to do is find your benefactor. You just called him.” She laughed, chirpy and curt.

_Lewis was in the kitchen, whistling – and probably half-dancing when he knew no one was watching – as he made popcorn._

He deserved this.

Benefactor?

Oh.

Green.

Hand.

She wanted Green Hand.


End file.
